What We're Missing
by Not Your Exception
Summary: An AU, and then an AU within an AU. In the end, we all end up the same. The only difference there has ever been is the way in which we get there. So take your pick: Disney or reality? Axel-centric.


There are four boys at the top of the stairs. One is skinny, and wears dark clothes. Twin white cords of earphones slip beneath his hair, which is so dark as to be reminiscent of violet. He's standing with one unlaced high-top on the landing, and the other on the step below, skinny arms crossed against his chest.

The second boy is very small, and looks far too young for this crowd. His hair is mostly blond and partly brown, pulled together in a rough sort of Mohawk. He's sitting on the top stair, knees apart and leaning back on his palms. His wide blue eyes are set on the boy next to him.

The third boy is very tall and thin, his legs comfortably stretching down three steps, where they end in heavy combat boots. He's making gestures in the air with one large hand, and where his sleeve lifts from his wrist, we can see the edge of a tattoo. His hair is a shocking shade of red and probably too long to be spiked backward like it is. His angular face is turned toward the blond beside him.

The fourth boy is leaning against the metal rail that runs down the center of the staircase. He doesn't look like he wants to be there. He is looking up at the ceiling with one eye (his other hidden by a wad of cotton and a strip of tape). A long black ponytail dangles from the nape of his neck over the edge of the rail.

How did they get there?

* * *

OPTION ONE

Axel woke to his cell vibrating its way off his beside table. He grabbed at it with one hand, eyes flicking to the digital clock next to it. Six forty-five. Nooo, not on a _Saturday_ –

He flipped open the phone --

"Axel! Come pick me up!"

Axel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tug his blanket back over his shoulders while slowly coming to the realization that it was impossible when holding the phone. "Larxene, it's not even seven, let me slee –"

"No, Axel. You're picking me up. Now."

"But it's Satur –"

"We're going to Hollow's, now get your ass out of bed and get it _here_."

He rolled out of bed and the world spun mercilessly around his head. He dropped the phone and clapped his hands to his eyes, cursing. The floor seemed pretty sturdy and he collapsed to his knees. It smelt like cat and feet, which was kind of weird because Axel's family didn't have a cat. He groped blindly for a moment, his fingers finding what felt like a t-shirt. Slowly, he opened his eyes. "Just… hold still," he growled at his room while pulling the shirt over his head and ducking under his bed in search of his phone.

"Larxene, you still there?" he asked. No reply. He sighed, snapping it shut. "You're whipped, Axel. Whipped."

Nobody else in the house was awake (because they didn't have crazy-ass girls like Larxene as friends) so he left a note on the table before making it out to his van. There wasn't much left of the original paint still visible on the vehicle's exterior. Most of it was either scraped away or obscured by masking tape or stickers that the previous owner had probably thought were cute. Let it never be said that the red-haired charmer and basketballer extraordinaire traveled in style, because he didn't.

It wasn't until he was pulling in at Larxene's ridiculously huge house (three stories, complete with a cellar, tennis court and mammoth fountain) that he realized: _Hollow's_? That was the common nickname for their high school. And it was Saturday, in case Axel need be reminded.

Larxene was standing at the top of her driveway, arms folded and foot tapping. Larxene was pretty weird, for a girl. Not like Axel would really know, with his limited experience, but he'd be the last to tell you that. She liked football, hated basketball ("Land of the bloody _giants_"), had a pond full of pet piranhas (all named Joey) and sported a fringe that hung backwards over her ears. She could have been cute, Axel supposed, but she was Larxene, and that was kind of scary.

The first thing she said once she had climbed in next to him was: "You're late, dumbass."

"Can't be late. You didn't tell me when I had to be here."

"Did so. I said _now_."

Axel blinked at her, his hand maneuvering the gear into reverse. "Are you serious?" Her face said that she was, and he let out an exasperated noise before pulling the van out onto the road. "Why are we headed to school?" he asked after a moment.

"School? It's Saturday." She looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'd noticed," he assured her, glaring daggers at the road in front of him. "You said 'Hollow's'."

"I meant the mall opposite, dipshit."

Axel's grip turned white on the steering wheel. "You woke me up at _seven_ to drive you to the _mall_?"

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

"_Yes, I have a problem with that!_"

Larxene had the nerve to laugh. "Good, I'd be worried if you didn't." And she patted him on the shoulder.

Axel growled and parked the van fast enough to give himself mild whiplash. "Is this place even open?" he grumbled at her as he climbed out and closed the door behind him.

The car park was over half full, so Larxene rolled her eyes at him, and strode away.

Axel stared after her, then knocked his head against the driver's seat window. He stood there for a moment, hands tucked deep into his pockets. The lizard tattoo on his arm started to itch like crazy, and he wrenched himself away from the van to scratch at it furiously through his shirt. "Why?" he whined. "Whywhywhy_why_?" It only did this in the mornings, which was why he tried to skip mornings whenever possible. School got in the way of that sometimes, but there was only one more year of that left. Axel had an amazing stamina for school. He'd already handled thirteen years of the thing and he wasn't on his knees yet.

The burning went down for a moment, and he rubbed at it idly. What he really wanted was to work in the fireworks industry. He had a part-time job with Mr. D, pyrotechnic extraordinaire (and Larxene's dad), but all he really did was move boxes. The man had promised him a spot at the engineering table once he'd finished school, and Axel was going to hold him to that. If his daughter didn't wear him out first.

Over the roof of the van, Axel spotted little emo Zexion who was "_not_ freaking emo!" (whatever, dude -- he had the haircut, the iPod, and kept his hands in his pockets; as far as Axel was concerned, he was _dying_ to be branded) lurking on the opposite end of the car park. Axel started toward him. Zexion and he were old friends. They hung out at school together, most days. There was Axel, Larxene, Zexion, Demyx, Zigbar, Roxas (but he was complicated) and Marluxia-The-Fairy.

Zexion was probably stuck in the car park because his mother hated his father more than she loved her son. She'd dropped the boy here then run for it before dear Daddy could show up. Zexion's Mum baked an awesome Shepard's pie, though, so he wasn't saying anything bad against her. Axel was easily bought. Whatever.

Zexion, true to form, had his hands deep in his pockets and little white buds tucked into his ears. He was completely oblivious to the blond boy in the beanie stalking toward him with two friends at his back. Upon spotting them, Axel started jogging. Freaking Seifer. He liked picking on kids smaller than him. It was pretty easy to be smaller than Seifer, but Axel was especially tall, and generally strong, even if he was a bit on the skinny side. Not that it mattered. Roxas, who was even smaller than Zexion, had handed Seifer's ass to him on more than one occasion. Roxas was special, though.

Axel slid to a stop at Zexion's side, watching through the corner of his eye as Seifer and his lot turned slowly away. "Yo, Zexion! Whatcha listening to?" he asked brightly, tugging at one of the cords dangling from his ears.

Zexion looked annoyed, and he answered the question flatly. It was some band that Axel had never heard of, and he forgot it a second later. Then, as if he felt sorry for Axel's attempt at conversation, he added, "They're touring here during the summer."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm going to play cards with my dad this weekend over whether or not I can go."

"Cards, huh?"

"Yes, Axel. Cards."

"Oh. That's kinda --" Axel's phone went off in his pocket. "Larxene," he explained to Zexion, before flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. "Yo?"

"Axel, Demyx and Zigbar are here. They're –"

"They're _awake_?"

"_For God's sake, Axel, it's not that freaking early._ They're looking for Jeffery." Jeffery was Demyx's pet guinea pig. He didn't really know why Demyx had a guinea pig, it was just one of those weird things that Demyx did. Like putting shampoo on the tops of all the doors in his house.

"They're looking for Jeffery in a shopping center?" Axel repeated. Zexion rolled his eyes. Axel sympathized with him.

"Yeah. Go help them, you've got nothing else to do."

"Well _actually_ –" He pulled the phone away from his ear. "She hung up on me."

"I'm not surprised," Zexion told him, turning toward the sliding doors of the shopping complex. "And neither are you. Let's go."

Axel jogged to catch up, pocketing his phone. "Isn't your Dad picking you up soon?"

Zexion's eyes narrowed. "Why would my Dad pick me up from a shopping centre car park? My parents have more class than that, I assure you."

Axel blanked for a second, then backed the hell off. "Alriiiight, so how long till you have to leave then?"

"A few hours," was the short reply.

"Awesome." That was kind of a default response with Axel. He said it to fill gaps.

Half an hour of fruitless searching later, Axel, Zigbar, Zexion and Demyx found Larxene in a dress store. They all kind of stood at the doorway, none of them daring to take that step onto the faux pine floorboards and into land of frills and sparkles. After a moment of chewing his lip, Demyx bounded forward, slinging an arm around Larxene's shoulders. Demyx was bereft of all manly shame.

"Any luck?" he asked sympathetically, as if he knew just how much luck it took to be successful in the dress-shopping situation.

"_No_," she snarled, shoving her way through the rack of dresses.

"Why not?" Demyx asked, cautiously dropping his arm.

"_Because_ –" Larxene spun around, eyes flashing, and Axel was glad that Larxene's fury took a bit of prodding (contrary to popular opinion) or else he would have gotten this in the van. "—my Daddy dearest, decided that he wanted his one and only daughter to go to the HCV Opening looking sexy. Sexy. Me. Because the head hauncho over there's got a son my age, and apparently it would be _healthy for the business_."

"Say 'no'," Zigbar told her flatly, cRoxasing his arms in the doorway and blinking his one eye solemnly.

Larxene made a sound of pure frustration and turned away, slamming coat-hangers this way and that.

"She can't," Zexion said softly. "It's her dad."

"So?" Zigbar shrugged.

Larxene threw a hand in the air. "You just don't _get it_!" And then she marched away, weaving between the stands of clothes.

Axel blinked after her. "Would you be incredibly pissed off if I called Marluxia down here to help you out?" he called.

Larxene froze. "What?" she asked slowly, turning around.

"You know. With the sexy thing," he elaborated.

Demyx was bouncing on his toes. "Yes! Do that! Marluxia will know! Marluxia will know!"

Axel watched Larxene carefully. Her eyes were wide, and she looked almost scared. But then she blinked, and her mouth settled into its customary crooked line. "Sure. Call Marluxia. Lot of good it'll do me."

Axel grinned, and called Marluxia. Larxene grabbed the nearest article of clothing and disappeared into the dressing rooms. A minute later she emerged, practically throwing the dress at the girl working with the returns.

"Is he coming?" she spat at Axel.

"Of course he –"

"_Jeffery!_" Demyx cried and Hell promptly broke loose. Three clothes racks fell over, Zexion was somehow whacked in between the eyes with a spinning coat-hanger, and Demyx vanished altogether. He was spotted a moment later, on the floor and commando-crawling into the change-rooms _really_ freaking fast.

"Sir! Sir, you can't go in there --!" one of the sales girls shouted after him.

Zexion leapt backward, clutching his forehead, Axel stepped forward, crouching down and eyeing the floor near the doorway, and Zigbar pulled a Snickers from his jacket pocket and started munching.

Now the sales girl was shouting for security. "Aw hell," Axel muttered. "Demyx, get your ass back out here! We'll catch him when he tries to –" He was cut off, then, because the 'security' had arrived, one ridiculously overweight man and another thinner than even Axel, both sporting batons and walkie-talkies. One barreled past Axel, nearly knocking him over, and the second pounced on Zigbar because he looked suspicious. Zigbar always looked suspicious, like a friendly mix between hippie, hobo and pirate. He'd never actually done anything worse than smoke some questionable substances and wave knives around (under heavy provocation).

Zigbar shoved the rest of the candy bar into his mouth and put his hands in the air, swallowing the chocolate. "Why would we steal from a dress store? We're all men here." Then he added, "Except for Marluxia, but he only just pulled into the show."

Marluxia-The-Fairy walked straight passed Zexion and the captured Zigbar, and began rifling through one of the still standing clothes racks.

"Traitor!" Zigbar cried.

"Was he already here?" Axel whispered to Zexion. "I only just called..."

The security standing at Zigbar's back yanked on his wrists to get his attention. "We know this isn't a robbery, boy. This is a planned kidnapping."

Larxene, who had just joined Marluxia and was trying not to look helpless, started laughing. "Kid… napping," she wheezed, propping her head on the edge of Marluxia's shoulder, her whole body shaking with mirth.

Zexion smirked beneath his fringe, and Axel scowled. (Larxene thought they didn't have the brains for a kidnapping? Well, Axel'd prove her wrong. One day. Err…)

Gregory, who was being chased by Demyx chased by a man with a baton, had reemerged from the change rooms, and was scuttling toward the door. "There he is!" Axel shouted, pointing. He pounced, Zigbar tore himself away from the security guard and joined Axel, but it was Zexion, standing behind them all, that curled his fingers around the small animal, bringing him close to his chest. A second later he was flat on his back with Demyx kneeling over his stomach cooing, "Jeffery, Jeffery, oh how I missed you."

Axel laughed, standing up at the feet of both security guards. "See? And you thought it was a kidnapping."

Bone-Bag turned to Fatso. "What the hell just happened?"

Fatso answered, "I have no idea."

"Nobody seems hurt," Bone-Bag pointed out.

Fatso nodded toward Zexion, who was currently struggling onto his elbows beneath a very motherly Demyx. "Except for that kid, maybe."

"Aw, he'll be fine," Zigbar told them, dusting himself off.

"There's really no use in us hanging around, then," Bone-Bag concluded.

"Yeah," Fatso agreed.

Then the two of them left to do whatever it is that security guards do when they're not securing or guarding anything.

Demyx looked after them, his eyes wide. "And to think that we finance them with our tax payer's dollars…" he mused.

"You're underage, Demyx," Axel told him. "You don't pay taxes."

"And security guards are paid by the shopping center, not by the government," Zexion added. "Now get off me."

Demyx rocked back onto his feet, standing carefully. A small brown head peaked from between his fingers. "I'll see you guys later, okay?" he promised, turning his back and heading toward the exit, direction his attention to the bundle in his hands. "I'm gonna take my baby back for some rest, isn't that right, Jeffery? Yes, yes it is."

Zexion climbed to his feet. "I'm going to… I'm going to wait for you all upstairs." And then he left. He seemed a bit upset. Maybe Demyx had hit his head and not said sorry.

"Zexion looks miffed," Zigbar told Axel once he had left.

"Yeah…"

Zigbar shrugged. "Whatever." The two of them turned back to the store, waiting for Larxene and Marluxia to return from the change rooms. "Look, I'm gonna go home, I'm hungry and –"

"No you're not. I'm not gonna be the only one left when –"

From the depths of the store, Larxene started shouting: "_If you make one more comment about my chest, pretty boy, I'll hang you from a power line by your tongue!_" Marluxia's soft voice made a reply, and Larxene started again. "I'm not insecure! I'm just _flat_." Another reply. "What do you mean it's not –"

"Sometimes I think their relationship is very different to ours, Axel," Zigbar commented.

Axel grinned. "You reckon?" He laughed. "I think we should go wait upstairs with Zexion."

Zigbar nodded. "Could end up in the line of fire, here…"

When they got to the staircase, Zexion wasn't the only one standing on the top landing. "Roxas!" Axel called, an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The blond boy grinned back, until he spotted Zigbar. "Jesus, Zigbar! What happened to your eye?"

When they got to the top, Zigbar shrugged. "I don't remember," he said, turning to prop his back against the rail that spilt the staircase in half, acRoxas from the silent Zexion.

Roxas looked to Axel for answers, and the redhead couldn't help but sit next to his best friend and indulge him with a story. "From what I heard, there was an alligator."

"An alligator."

"Yeah, an alligator. Like a zoo escapee, or something. Anyway, so Zigbar was in the city and –"

Roxas leant back onto his hands as Axel made a crazy sort of gesture, and Zigbar looked at the ceiling, determined not to listen in case he actually be provoked to tell the truth. Zexion crossed his arms.

* * *

Zigbar gets into a lot of trouble, but with his friends around it's never something that can't be fixed. Larxene is stubborn, demanding, and really needs to get her own car, but she more than makes up for it with her wicked sense of humour, selective but iron loyalty and assertiveness. Her friends are probably the only ones in the world that know this, but they really do. Marluxia, especially, and he isn't gay. Zexion has a lot of problems, his family being only the oldest, with his sexuality among the more recent. The times he really thinks about it, he figures it'll turn out okay because the people he hangs out with are a persistent bunch. Demyx is happily in love with the world, and although some people find that a bit too weird, his friends don't. Axel is generally unreliable, incredibly forgetful, and has a dangerous affixation with fire. He also tells great stories and knows when to stop. Roxas is three years older than he looks, has a terrible temper with an unpredictable fuse, and a smile that puts Axel on top of the world.

Or not.

* * *

OPTION TWO

Axel woke slowly, left hand instinctively reaching for his mobile phone. _3 Missed Calls_, the LCD screen on the top read. Grumbling, he flipped it open, checking the time. Eleven forty five. Everybody that was anybody knew he wouldn't be getting up for anything before twelve on a Saturday. The first name on the missed-calls list was Larxene's, Mr. D's mistake of a daughter. Like Axel would take a call from her, anyway.

The second was from 'Marissa', and he got an image of flashing lights, short blonde hair and wide blue eyes. Maybe he'd call her back later.

The third was from his brother. Probably to tell him that he was crashing at a friend's house for the next _week_. Axel didn't blame him; there was no food here. He sighed, rolling out of bed and landing hard on his belt buckle. (He almost always slept in his jeans, but he never learnt not to fall on the bloody belt buckle. He had the bruises on his hips to prove it.)

He pulled on a shirt, grabbed his wallet, phone and keys before making it out to his van, which was the only vehicle left in the garage. Both his parents were working (or just 'out'), and his brother's third car had long since been written off.

Before climbing in to his van, he kicked the front hubcap. He hated the damn thing. His brother had managed to land himself three half-decent _cars_, and Axel had found himself with this prehistoric piece of crap. Whatever. Axel had convinced himself that he wasn't into aesthetics a long time ago. (In principle.)

Ten minutes later he was parking at Hollow's Mall for a bite to eat, before heading to Mr. D's for work at one. Climbing out of his van, he spotted Seifer and his two crony-type-friends acRoxas the car park.

"Yo, Seifer!" he called, waving a hand.

The boy jumped and spun around. He and Seifer both played for their school's senior basketball team. Seifer used to be one of their most valuable players, until Axel had been forced to repeat eleventh grade the year before.

"Axel," Seifer addressed him when they were close enough to bump fists. "What're you doing here? In a place like this? Here?"

Axel forced away a smirk. "Nothing. I got hungry." Axel often contradicted himself, but Seifer and the team never seemed to notice, and he let it go. It was alright to talk stupid around his friends, he supposed. Not around Mr. D, though.

Over Seifer's shoulder, he spotted a familiar figure. "Hey look, it's the emo-tastic Zexion!"

One of Seifer's friends sniggered, and the blond boy muttered, "Haha, 'emo-tastic'… That's funny, man."

Axel forced down the eyebrow that was lifting of its own accord. "Yeah… alright…" He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You guys have fun, then. I'm just gonna… go." And he turned his back as the three stalked toward the much smaller boy leaning against the wall of the complex.

On his way up the staircase to the food hall he passed Zigbar, the stoner from his English class. His one eye followed Axel as he approached, and Axel tried not to twitch as he walked past and bought himself one of those pre-cut pizza things and an energy drink. He got a seat that was facing the staircase, because he wasn't entirely comfortable with his back to Zigbar. The guy was creepy.

An overly cheerful face popped out of nowhere, right between Axel and the could-be ax murderer on the staircase.

"Axel!" the face exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He sat himself down across the table with a thump.

"Eating," he replied flatly. Demyx, that was his name. From the track team. _Really_ freaking fast.

"Haha, really? Can I have some? I skipped breakfast 'cause I had to find Jeffery – have you seen Jeffery? I've been looking all morning. He's about this big, this tall, and he really likes zucchini."

Axel's teeth made an unpleasant sound as they ground together. "No, and no. Now please leave."

"Oh, okay then. Thanks for your help!" Then he patted Axel on the cheek, and disappeared from his chair.

"Asshole," Axel muttered, pulling his remaining pizza to his lips (not noticing that there was a piece of pineapple missing) and turning his eyes back to his stair-case horizon, just in time to see Zexion's appearance. The dark haired boy propped his back against the wall opposite Zigbar (whose eye had moved on from Axel, and was roaming for another set of nerves to frazzle) and slipped his earphones on, crossing his arms and looking tense.

He had noticed Marluxia-The-Queer standing in the corner of his field of vision buying an iced tea, when his view was once again drastically impeded, this time by Larxene. She didn't bother to say 'hi'.

"When you see my dad, tell him that I am_ never coming home_, alright? Tell him that he's finally done it with this stupid HVC Opening, and that I'm not coming back. Ever. That okay with you? Good. I'm glad. Bye." And then she stormed off.

Axel took a swig of his drink. Larxene wanted _him_ to tell Mr. D _that_? Like hell. As he brought the bottle down, he spotted a familiar blond head making its appearance at the top of the stairs. His bottle imploded in his grip. Roxas.

Axel realized why Zexion had managed to make it away from Seifer in under fifteen minutes. If Saint Freaking Roxas was here, that wouldn't have been a problem. He knew for a fact that within his tiny blue-eyed frame, that kid had the upper body strength to lift a boy like Seifer over his head before pounding him into the asphalt.

He watched the kid as he reached the top of the stairs, turning to Zexion and murmuring a question.

It was probably something ridiculous like, "Are you okay?" or "Do you feel better now that I've destroyed Seifer's face and your pride in record time?"

Zexion turned his head away, and Axel tried to take his vicarious justice from that. He couldn't, and a second later he was standing up, just as Roxas took a seat on the top step, propping himself back onto his palms. Roxas needed to have his faced shoved into the dirt, and one day (one day) Axel was going to be the one to do it.

Axel stalked forward, predatory eyes set on the back of that blond head. When he sat down, he pushed himself as close to the other boy as was discrete, because Roxas hated people touching him, alongside coffee and anything that was 'chicken flavoured'. On the other hand, he liked ice-cream, empty rooms and Japanese horror films. He also had a smile that set Axel's nerves on fire and made him want to _shred_ something. It was a smile that said "I trust you", and Axel knew who the kid smiled at and thought he was a stupid, _stupid_ boy.

He knew that Roxas knew who was sitting beside him as soon as he saw how far his company's black-clad knee stretched past his own. He didn't say anything, but Axel noted his shoulders tensing at the sudden undesired proximity and felt a small bubble of triumph rise in his chest.

"What's up, little man?" he asked.

"I'm not little," was the short reply. That was another thing. Roxas was quite the little hero, but he wasn't the nice guy. Not by a long shot.

"Whatever you say, short stuff."

Roxas turned to glare directly up at him, the threat evident in his eyes before it came out of his mouth. "One more word, and I'll kick your ass into next week." The violence in his tone was enough to make Zigbar stifle a chuckle, glancing at the ceiling.

Axel made a gesture in front of him. "Just one word?"

* * *

They say that opposites attract, but it's not so true.

There's opposite's as in, Jane likes sun_sets_, but Jim likes sun_rises_, and oh dear – that means they're going to have to spend the _whole day together_ to make everybody happy…

It's not like that.

It would be wonderful if truly different people could get along.

But it's not like we know what we're missing.

* * *

5th January, 2009

**Author's Note:** I've checked this thing over a few times, and I still don't know what I was thinking. It's been through three edits and it's still not good enough, so go on and point out the problems. There's a lot; I'm easy prey. :)

Stephanie R.


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